Engaged in Murder (Perfect Proposals Mystery) (4 page)

Disappointed that I couldn’t talk to him live and in person during this scary time in my life, I pressed the Off button and glanced around. The shadows lengthened and I wondered how much longer it would be before the police got here.

“Miss Pomeroy?”

I heard Jeb calling my name and ran out of the bathroom. “I’m here.” I hurried forward toward the open hangar door.

The hangar door was wide-open so he could see me from one hundred feet away. He hitched his gun belt on his narrow hips as he hurried toward me. “I thought I asked you to stay outside the hangar.”

“I wanted to make sure the guy was still in the ladies’ room,” I said. “He is, by the way.”

“All right,” he said. His wide shoulders and muscular biceps were reassuring. “Did you touch him?”

“No,” I said and followed Jeb down the hallway. “I have to admit, I’m kind of worried that he may be more than passed out.”

“What do you mean by ‘more than passed out’?” He stopped at the bathroom door and studied me with his intense brown gaze.

“I don’t know.” I worried my bottom lip. “He may be dead.”

“You’re telling me that you think the drunk in the ladies’ room is dead?”

“Yes.”

“Did you check for a pulse?” He pushed the door open and I followed him into the ladies’ room.

“You told me not to touch him.”

Jeb went straight to the third stall and looked inside. He muttered something dark under his breath and then turned on his heel. “You need to leave. This is a crime scene and I need to secure it.”

I took off at the sound of his voice. He spooked me with his hand on his gun belt and his serious gaze. I was outside and beside old blue before I realized it.

The sound of an approaching police car echoed through the wide-open hangar. I waved at the car, and the inhabitants cut their sirens. The sudden loss of noise was nearly as deafening as the sirens themselves. The police car lights flashed in a rhythm that was the opposite of the security vehicle’s, and the effect was rather like a disco ball.

I rushed to the two officers as they exited the cars. “Hi, I’m Pepper Pomeroy. I called 911.”

The driver of the car was about six feet tall and slender. “Officer O’Riley,” he said, his blue eyes solemn. “You called regarding a drunk in the ladies’ room?”

“Yes, only I’m thinking he may be more than drunk.”

Officer O’Riley narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean by ‘more than drunk’?”

“I think he might be dead.” I winced. “I’m sorry. I would have called sooner if I’d thought he was dead dead and not simply a dead drunk.” Okay, so I babbled when I was scared. I shut my mouth and tried to slow my racing heart.

“How do you know he’s dead?” the second officer asked.

“This is my partner, Officer Vandall,” Officer O’Riley said.

“Hi.” I waved then stuffed my hands in my pockets. “He didn’t move when I tried to wake him. I thought he was just passed out, but he smells kind of funky and he’s really stiff.”

“Call in backup,” O’Riley ordered his partner. “Where is he?”

“This way.” I pointed down the hall. “I discovered him in the third stall of the ladies’ room.” I led them down the beige-painted cinder block hall. The doors were painted beige to match the walls. The only way you knew it was a door was the silver-plated handle and the little black outline of a stick figure in a skirt.

“Stay here.” Officer O’Riley held up his left hand to stop my progress. His right hand was on the butt of his gun.

“Jeb Donaldson is in there,” I said. “He’s head of airport security.”

“Did he find the body?”

“No, I did,” I said. “I called him after I called 911.” I wrapped my hands around my waist, leaned against the wall, and watched. There was quite a commotion when the officers entered the restroom. After a moment of chaos, Jeb was escorted out of the bathroom by Officer Vandall.

“I told you, I’m head of airport security. It’s my job to make sure no one messed with the crime scene,” Jeb grumbled as Officer Vandall put him against the wall beside me.

“Is this the guy you called?” the officer asked me. For a brief moment I contemplated saying no, but the look of murder in Jeb’s gaze gave me pause.

“Yes,” I said.

“Stay here, both of you,” Officer Vandall warned. “We’ll need to get your statements.” He reached up on his shoulder and hit his communication device. “Dispatch, this is Unit 73. We need Crime Scene Patrol and an ambulance to the Executive Airport, hangar number four. They won’t need to run with lights. There is a confirmed DB. Again DB is confirmed.”

The device made a squawking noise that he seemed to understand and he turned back to us. Pulling out a notebook and a pen, he asked. “Okay, let’s take it from the top. Who discovered the body?”

“I did—”

“She did—”

We answered at the same time. The officer nodded and made a note on his pad. “Ms. Pomeroy, is it?”

“Yes, sir, Pepper Pomeroy.”

As he wrote down my name, a third officer came in. “What have we got?” The new guy looked more like a Boy Scout than a police officer. I looked at Officer Vandall as if to ask if this new guy was a real cop.

“We have a DB,” Officer Vandall said. “This is Officer Flynn. Is Westin with you?”

“Right here,” came the sound of a second male voice. Suddenly the place was full of men.

Jeb crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall. “The scene is secure,” he grumbled. “I secured it.”

“I’m sure you did,” Officer Vandall said as the other two went into the bathroom.

A moment later, Officer Flynn came out of the restroom. He looked a little green as he rushed by.

“It’s his first DB,” Vandall said.

The sound of retching came from around the corner. My stomach leapt into my throat. Was it really that bad? Wait, this was my first dead body, too . . . My heartbeat picked up and my palms broke out in a sweat.

“Sit down,” Officer Vandall ordered and pushed my shoulder as my knees gave out.

I sat down hard. My vision started to go dark. Great, just what I needed . . . to faint in front of the cops. It could be worse, I suppose. I could be outside with Officer Flynn. Or worse, inside marring Officer O’Riley’s shiny shoes.

“Head between your knees.” He put his pad away and squatted beside me. I had to admit that the ground felt particularly comfortable at the moment. I rested my forehead on the cool tiled floor.

“I’m fine,” I muttered.

“I’m sure you are,” he said.

Why then did I have tears in my eyes?

“I have a blanket in my truck,” I heard Jeb say.

“Get it.” Vandall’s voice was full of sympathy. “You had quite a shock, Ms. Pomeroy. Take a deep breath in and blow it out. Good.”

I felt the blanket go around my shoulders. The warmth staved off the shivers that had started down my spine. I sat up to look into Vandall’s hazel gaze. He had those lovely diamond-shaped eyes that were wider in the center and pointed at the ends as if he spent days laughing in the sun. “I’m fine.”

“I’m going to have to ask you some more questions,” he said. “Are you up to it?”

“Yes.” I nodded.

“There’s an office across the hall,” Jeb said. “You can take her in there.”

Both men helped me up and I huddled in the blanket. The office door was open and the overhead light still on from my excursion inside to find Jeb’s phone number. I walked in, this time sensitive to my surroundings. The office held a file cabinet, a desk with a chair behind it, and two chairs in front.

Officer Vandall ushered me into the second chair in front of the desk. He looked at Jeb. “Can you get her some water?”

“Sure thing.” Jeb left and I huddled in the blanket as Officer Vandall leaned against the desk and studied me.

“Tell me how you found the body.” His hazel gaze was calm and direct.

“I looked under the stall and saw a man’s feet so I knocked on the door. There was no way I was going to use the restroom if a guy was in there.” I had a feeling I would get in big trouble for letting Felicity and Warren leave the scene of a crime. But I really had thought he was simply drunk. Then I’d gotten caught up in the excitement of the moment. Warren and I had worked so hard to create the perfect scene for Felicity.

Besides, favor from a friend or not, renting the plane and crew must be costing Warren a fortune. It would have been a tragedy for him to go to all that expense only to be grounded due to a crime. There was no way Warren or his crew was involved. No way.

“Let’s start from the beginning.” Officer Vandall pulled out his paper and pen. “Why are you here?”

“Well, you see, my mom and dad were taking this romantic vacation to—”

“At the airport, today . . .” He gave me a deadpan look. You know the kind your mom gives you when you’re caught goofing around.

“Oh.” I smiled. Luckily Jeb came in with a tiny paper cup filled with water. “Thank you.” I took the cup from him and sipped. It was cold and sweet on my tongue and throat and gave me time to reason out my story. I would tell the truth, I decided. Well, as much of the truth as I could anyway.

“I’ll need to question you separately,” Officer Vandall said to Jeb. “If you don’t mind . . .”

“Oh, right.” Jeb shoved his hands in his pockets and left the office.

I noticed two guys in paramedic uniforms walk by the office window pushing a stretcher. They were followed by a single gentleman wearing a black jacket marked
CST
. He looked young, thin, and nothing like the actors on television.

“Is one guy enough to process a crime scene?” I asked.

“That’s Frank Swizer. He’s the best. Now let’s start with why you’re here in hangar four today, Ms. Pomeroy.”

“I came to help my sister’s boyfriend, Warren Evans, propose to my sister. You see, he wanted to give Felicity her dream proposal and I knew exactly what she always wanted.” I paused, waiting for him to ask. He gave me the flat-eyed stare. “She wanted to be proposed to in a private jet and whisked away to a romantic weekend. Thus the Executive Airport.” I waved my hand and sloshed the bit of water left in the paper cup.

“So you came to help this guy, Warren, propose . . .”

“Yes, no, wait . . . I didn’t help him propose. I mean it’s not romantic if your sister proposes for the guy. It wasn’t like I put words in his mouth or anything. I came to decorate the inside of the plane with mementos of their relationship. Then there was the music and the flowers and the champagne and the chocolate-covered strawberries . . . you know.”

“So when did you find the body? Before or after this Warren proposed to your sister Felicity?”

I swallowed. I was the worst liar in the world. My face heated up and I tended to stutter. “I thought he was a drunk guy . . . you know, passed out.”

He glared at me as my face grew warmer. I refused to let his silence unnerve me.

“Do you really think I would have let them leave me here alone with a dead body?”

“Just a drunk guy . . .”

“As far as I knew, he might have gotten up and left while I saw Felicity off . . .” I swallowed. “He might have.”

He didn’t answer. Instead he wrote something in his notebook. I crossed my arms and jutted out my chin. I told myself to wait him out.

The tension in the room grew as the time stretched on. I bit down on my tongue until I tasted blood. Finally, he took pity on me and broke the silence.

“So you called immediately after their plane took off.”

“Pretty much,” I replied.

He raised his right eyebrow. “Why did you go into the ladies’ room?”

“When I got here, Daniel, Warren’s pilot, showed me around. He told me how to be safe around the plane and gave me a tour of the hangar. After I decorated the plane, I wanted to give Laura Snow—she’s the flight attendant Warren used—some pointers on serving the champagne so I looked for her in the ladies’ room. After the plane took off, I thought I heard someone so I went down the hall but no one was there.”

“After the plane left the hangar, you didn’t see anyone?”

“No, I guess I was the only one here. That’s why I called 911 first to report the drunk guy. There wasn’t any airport security around. After I called you, the operator suggested I call Jeb. So I did. He told me not to touch anything and came up in the truck you see there.” I pointed out the office window.

“When did you figure out the victim was dead?”

“When Jeb asked me if the drunk guy was still there,” I said. “I had to check. I didn’t want to file a police report if he’d gotten up and left.”

“So you went in and tried to wake him.”

“Yes, that’s when I noticed the smell and the weird stiffness and the funny blue color of his lips . . .”

“Did you check for a pulse?”

“No, I was afraid. Then Jeb came into the hangar. I told him where the body was. That’s when he went inside the bathroom. He said he was a trained professional.”

“And all this time you didn’t see anyone else?”

“No, no, I was the only one here. Why?”

“I’m wondering where the killer was . . .”

A shiver ran down my back at the thought that I had been alone with not only a dead man but perhaps his killer. “The only one in the restroom when I found the body was me. Trust me, I checked. You see, I have this habit of looking under the stalls to see if they’re empty—especially if I’m in a guy place like the mechanic’s or something. It’s safer. A girl never knows who might be lurking . . .”

“Or dead.”

“Right.” I waved my hand to emphasize my words.

“Where were you when you called 911?”

“I was in the hallway,” I answered.

“Did you see anyone else?”

“No.”

“Did you touch anything?”

“Well, I guess I touched the door to go in, then the stall door . . .”

“Frank will be collecting fingerprints . . .”

“I’m not lying.” I could feel my face flush. Okay, so I might be fibbing about the timeline a bit, but I was being as honest as possible.

“What makes you think I would think you’re lying?” He raised an eyebrow as he twisted my words.

“You are acting as if I’m a suspect.” I pouted and folded my arms across my chest.

“Do you usually skip work to plan an event like this proposal?” he asked.

“No.” I frowned. “I was recently laid off. They were reorganizing corporate and my job was eliminated. They said it was”—I made finger quotes—“‘redundant.’”

“I see. How long ago was that?”

I frowned. “Last month.” I winced at how fast time had gone by. My unemployment stipend was only two-thirds of the salary that Events Inc. had paid me as a corporate event planner. Thank goodness for Warren’s check. That chunk of money would help pay my bills for a few months.

“Were you angry they let you go?” Officer Vandall asked.

I tilted my head and gave him the squinty eye. “Are you thinking I was a disgruntled employee offing my boss? Because (a) I have no idea how that man in there died, and (b) I’ve never seen him before in my life.”

“I see,” Officer Vandall said. “What about your sister?”

“What about her?” I tugged the blanket tight around my shoulders.

“Did she know the man in the bathroom?”

“How would I know?” I shrugged. “As far as I know, she didn’t use the bathroom while she was here. Besides, every moment from the time she left the cab until after the proposal was filmed by my video guy. I think I would have noticed if he followed her into the restroom.”

“There’s video of this event?”

“Yes, of course . . .”

“I need that footage,” he said. “Where’s the videographer?”

“Cesar? He followed the plane out to catch a clip of it taking off into the sunset. I didn’t see him come back, so I presume he headed back to his office.”

“I’m going to need his information.”

“Okay,” I said. “I have his info in my phone.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out my cell phone. Thank goodness for smart phones. I flipped through the screens until I got to Cesar’s contact info, then I showed Officer Vandall the screen. “He’s really good and reasonable if you ever have an event you need filmed.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He wrote down Cesar’s information. “Who else was here that can verify your story?”

“First of all, it’s not a story. It’s what happened.” I narrowed my eyes at him.

He gave me that same calm stare.

“Fine, when I arrived, I met Warren at the entrance to the hangar.” I waved toward what I had begun to think of as the giant garage door. “Then there was Daniel Frasier, he’s the pilot. Then Laura Snow, she’s the stewardess. Do they call them that anymore?” I shrugged. “That’s pretty much it. Cesar came later and then Felicity.”

“And you were the only one here when you found the body . . .”

“If that is a question, the answer is yes. Daniel piloted the plane. Laura ensured everyone’s safety and comfort. Cesar went out to the runway to film the takeoff.”

“And you were here, alone in a wide-open hangar . . .”

I winced. “Yes, is that weird? I mean, I’ve never been in a hangar before. I kind of thought there would be mechanics or someone else around. Ask Jeb Donaldson, he’s airport security. He should know more than I do about who should be here and who shouldn’t.”

“Tell me more about Warren Evans,” he asked as if we were getting to know each other over coffee. I didn’t fall for it, though.

“He’s been dating my sister for a year or so.”

“Where did they meet?”

“Why is that important?”

He tilted his head. “Humor me.”

“Fine.” I wiggled in my plastic chair. “They met at a charity thing. Look, I really don’t know him that well. I think he’s an accountant for a small firm that does something for the airport. It’s how he knows Daniel and how he managed to get the plane for the weekend.”

“An accountant for a small firm who can afford to whisk your sister off in a private jet . . . don’t you think that’s a bit odd?”

Under his steady gaze, it did sound a bit odd. Still, I might not know too much about Warren, but he seemed like a good guy. Felicity was so happy. “Not at all. Daniel and Laura both seemed to know him very well. People do favors for each other all the time.”

“Perhaps,” he said. I got the distinct impression he was suspicious of both me and Warren. I suppose that is what he got paid to do. But I know I didn’t do anything wrong and I was just as certain Warren didn’t, either.

Officer Vandall stood. “I’d like you to stay here while I talk to airport security. I may have more questions.”

“Is it going to take long?” I asked.

“Do you have someplace you need to be?” He raised an eyebrow as he towered over me.

“Yes, actually.” I stuck my chin out. “Do I need to call my lawyer?” I lifted my phone and pretended to look through my contacts. In real life I was too poor to have an attorney. Let alone have one stored in my contacts. But he didn’t need to know that.

“If you’re feeling up to it, you can go,” he said, his expression never changing so I had no idea if he was angry or curious as to why I wanted to call my lawyer. “I will need your address and phone number.”

“Thank you.” I gave him the address to my tiny apartment in Arlington Heights, and then stood to leave. Unfortunately I wasn’t really ready to stand up. Maybe it was my nerves, perhaps it was all the excitement, but I had a head rush. My vision started to close up again and my legs felt rubbery. “Or maybe I’ll wait a minute.”

“Take your time.” Officer Vandall nodded and opened the door. He stopped at the entrance. “Oh, and Ms. Pomeroy, I wouldn’t leave town if I were you. We may have more questions.”

“Right.” I nodded and watched him walk out. He wore a bulletproof vest under his uniform. It gave him a smooth, stiff torso. The man had a nice backside and brown hair that was the color of mahogany. Perhaps it would have been okay to spend a little more time in Officer Vandall’s company.